Harry Potter and the Kanshi Clan
by NitenGale
Summary: Harry has finally gotten over Sirius's death. He is given a mysterious ring to guard, as well as a lateblooming wizard. And who is this strange girl that he sees in his dreams? The girl who never talks, yet always has that look that says that so much?
1. A Fight and a Lot of Owls

Disclaimer: sigh If only I WERE J. K. Rowling. Then I'd be writing a novel that half the world is looking forward to instead of a simple fanfic that only a handful of people would read. I would also be FILTHY RICH! But all that I own are my ten bucks and my cell phone. So I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: Okay. This is going to be VERY SLOW. And I MEAN slow! I don't expect you to meet Harry's object of affection until the fourth chapter or so.

Chapter 1: A Fight and a Lot of Owls 

'Brooding,' Harry thought to himself as he walked down Privet Drive. 'That's what I'm doing.' No one here on Privet Drive noticed. No one here even cared. No one here had ever bothered to greet him or try to be friends with him since they heard that he was a criminal and was going to St. Brutus's. Harry didn't mind that so much. He was happy in his seclusion. He was finally able to walk in peace, thinking about his problems or life in general. He didn't need to look over his shoulder, worrying about some Death Eater or Dementor on a mission to kill him. 'Not after last May,' he thought as he went on his daily early-afternoon walk that July 31, his seventeenth birthday.

For, yes, it was true! He had finally killed Voldemort! (A/N: I didn't feel like dealing with him in this story) 'And I'm not sorry,' he mentally added. He had, in a sense, committed murder, and he was glad of it! What barbaric idea had warped his mind this way? Harry didn't know, and he didn't care! He had, in fact, killed quite a few people, including Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy. Now that he thought about it, it had been quite easy actually. He just had to think about all the things in the world that he hated more than anything (losing Sirius, Pettigrew's treachery, Voldemort, Umbridge, living with the Dursley's, etc.) and let all his hate out on the person he needed dead. He had become a murderer during the last year, while the war raged, and he wasn't the least bit sorry.

But that wasn't why he was brooding. 'I need to stop mourning Sirius,' he thought. 'It's been to long.' He knew he was right. Harry had been consistently quiet and distant since Sirius died. He rarely talked to anyone, even Ron. He didn't ask for anything from anyone. He simply took care of it himself. The professors had noticed this and had made an attempt to get him to talk. Even Snape showed a minor sense of worry through not taking off points every once in a while. But after November, they all gave up trying to get Harry to say anything more than was necessary. 'Maybe this is for the best,' some of them thought, for none of them, not even Snape, could deny that his grades had rocketed sky-high that year. He wasn't struggling in anything at all. In fact, he was now in healthy competition with his friend Hermione Granger for being the best in the class (Ron was, in the meantime, in desperate need of a tutor in all of his classes). But that didn't change the fact that excessive mourning is bad for your health, as Harry found out with five unexplainable flu's, twelve cases of vomiting (once again, unexplainable) and countless headaches that didn't have anything to do with his scar.

It was then, as he walked down Magnolia Crescent, that Harry decided very firmly that he was going to move on. Now that he thought about it, Sirius would have scolded him for mourning so long. He decided that what he needed first was a distraction from Sirius. He got it when he came upon Dudley and his gang. Apparently, they were beating up on that twelve-year-old, Mark Evans. Harry had, at one time, believed that he might be related to Mark through his mother's side, but he had let that drop when he remembered that, aside from the Dursley's, he had no living relatives. He decided that making Dudley mad would be a good boost for his ever-growing good mood, so he went over to the group to give Mark a hand.

"I've said it before Dudley, I'll say it again. I can't fathom how you need five thugs behind you to beat on a kid who's five years younger than you," said Harry as he crossed his arms and leaned against the brick wall on the side of the sidewalk. Dudley looked startled, for he hadn't heard Harry speak since the summer before their fifth year. When Dudley's friends saw his silence, Pier Polkiss tried to come up with a witty statement.

"That's more than you can say for yourself! You have to have a brick wall behind you to take on us!"

Harry chuckled, which seemed to make the entire gang nervous.

"I can fight my own battles," said Harry. This was true, for he had, in his previous year at Hogwarts, studied every way of fighting from wizard dueling to hand fighting, and had excelled in everything. He could fight and win every battle he was challenged to.

"Really?" said Dudley. "You couldn't fight me!"

"Dudley, you have the brain of a fruit fly to think you can win a fight against me. Compared to me in a fight, you are a cockroach, who I could kill with a step of my foot! What was that that they used to call you at your boxing matches? The Dud?" said Harry, who really wanted more than anything to be able to fight Dudley, just to prove to himself how strong he was. In fact, he wanted to fight the whole gang of 'em. All he needed was one swing from Dudley. He'd be able to take Dudley and the moment their leader was down, the rest of the gang would come, and come fast. Just a little more provoking and Dudley would snap.

"What do you mean, the brain of a fruit fly?" said Dudley. "I'm the one who continuously beat you up for the past ten years!"

"And do you remember what that earned you," Harry retorted. "I distinctly remember you crying to your mommy, but you were yelling so high and shrill, I could have sworn that you were going 'Oink, oink'."

That did it.

Dudley attacked Harry with a left hook, but it never met its target, for Harry quickly parried it, grabbed Dudley's arm, and twisted it until Dudley was on the ground. He then gave a good, hard ridge-hand strike to carotid artery in Dudley's neck, knocking him out cold. That was the first time that anyone had ever taken down "Big D", as his minions called him. The five thugs stared at Harry, the little boy they had practically hunted since they were all old enough to walk. It was really the first time they had truly looked at Harry since they were eleven. Then, he was a short, scrawny, muscle-less little kid with messy hair and emerald eyes who couldn't kick to save his life. Now, he had become a tall, muscular young man who still had his trademark hair and eyes, but could obviously pack a punch. They sized him up and decided that, despite his new muscles, they could take him if they all went together. Big mistake.

Harry was prepared for this. In the span of ten seconds, he had given two boys black eyes, two more boys broken noses, and broken several teeth in the last boy's mouth. Mark Evans watched all of this in stunned silence for two reasons: he had never heard Harry say more than one word to anyone and he had never seen anyone beat Dudley to the ground, much less the entire gang.

Harry watched as Dudley's thugs half-walked, half-dragged him to Pier Polkiss's house, all of them very stunned at the fact that they had all been beaten for the first time at their own game. Once again, he chuckled to himself before turning and offering a hand to Mark, who was still on the ground. He took it hesitantly, as if he thought Harry would beat him to a bloody pulp if he did. As soon as Mark was on his feet, Harry started to walk away. Mark wouldn't want to talk with a guy like him anyway. He was surprised.

"Hey!" Mark called. "Wait up!" He came jogging up to Harry looking cautious, but curious. Harry stopped and looked at the short, brown-haired, brown-eyed boy who reminded Harry so much of himself, with his short, scrawny body structure and his unfortunate magnetism for Dudley and his gang. His gaze seemed to make Mark reconsider his following Harry, but he apparently had a question for Harry and he wasn't leaving until it was answered.

"Why did you do that? Why did you help me?" Harry stared at him in amazement. 'People here must believe that he was a serial killer to mistrust me this much,' he thought.

"Why not?" Harry asked. "Why wouldn't I help you?" Mark was obviously taken aback by this.

"You go to St. Brutus's. You must have done some bad stuff to go there. I mean . . ." He was cut off by Harry.

"That's a lie."

"If you don't go to St. Brutus's, where DO you go to school?"

It was then that the tiny owl decided to make its appearance.

Harry caught the letter Pigwidgeon had dropped easily, as he had years of practice. It was a letter from Ron.

Harry,

How's your summer been? Mine's been okay. Mom let me stay at the twins' joke shop so far, but only because she wanted me out of the house while she's cleaning it. Kept saying that she had missed far too many spring cleanings at our house and was going to catch up. Sadly, this means that I can't invite anyone over, including you. I'm sorry. Really, I am. So here's your birthday gift! Fred and George send their regards. Have fun with this!

-Ron

P.S.-I didn't make Head Boy (big surprise), so I made a bet with the twins that you would be it. Don't let me down bro!

Harry smiled to himself before opening the gift, which turned out to be a miniature Gobstones game, something he couldn't play until the train ride to Hogwarts. He ignored Ron's tactlessness and realized that his own Hedwig was swooping down on him, so he held out his arm for her, completely oblivious to the fact that Mark was still there with him and watching his every move with complete amazement that Harry wasn't the least bit fazed by owls swooping down on him. The letter and package Hedwig carried were from Hermione.

Harry,

How are you? I'm in Austria with my parents on our yearly trip to a foreign country. Guess what? I made Head Girl! And I'm POSITIVE that you will be made Head Boy. If you're not, I just hope that it doesn't turn out to be Malfoy. Are you doing okay over there? I really wish that I could have you come over for once for the summer, but, as we're not in town, that's not an option. You'd better not be getting sick from sorrow again. Anyway, I miss you something awful and have a Happy Birthday!

-Hermione

P.S.-Thank you for the Shakespeare book! It was a bit of a relief to read some fiction instead of pure fact.

Harry was reminded of how he had sent a note with the book he had sent her for her birthday. It had basically said, "You've been reading textbooks to much. Let your imagination loose a little." She had apparently taken it very well. Her gift turned out to be a book. Hogwarts, A History the Updated and Condensed Version to be exact. It was about a quarter of the size of the enormous volume he normally saw Hermione reading. Inside was a note from Hermione.

I've spent too much time telling you what I've read about you in books. I think it's time you saw for yourself.

Harry saw what she meant. This version of Hogwarts, A History, which had apparently come out two weeks ago, had about a hundred pages on him, and only him. He soon found, however, that the little book grew to accommodate all the information that had been in the previous edition. He thought he might actually read it sometime this year. Mark was becoming progressively more confused as to why Harry was getting letters by owl. There was suddenly another owl, which Harry figured was a school owl, as the owl's letter bore the Hogwarts crest. He was trembling as he opened the letter, which felt heavier than usual.

Dear Mr. Potter,

The next school term will start on September first. The Hogwarts Express will leave at eleven o' clock. Do be there on time. As a seventh-year student, you will require:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 7) by Miranda Goshawk

Advanced Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

Advanced Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

We are looking forward to seeing you this year.

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

The ticket for the Hogwarts Express was there, but there was another piece of parchment enclosed. As he opened it, a slightly heavy, shiny object in the shape of the Hogwarts crest fell into his hand. Harry saw that it had the words "Head Boy" on it. He almost shouted with joy. He read the letter it came with.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Congratulations! You have been selected to be this year's Head Boy. You are to report to the Head Compartment at the front end of the train as soon as you board. The Head and Prefect meeting will begin at eleven o'clock exactly. Do not be late! You will, at this meeting, receive the passwords for all the house dorms, directions to your new dormitory, and meet the new Prefects and Head Girl. Congratulations again!

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry could have shouted with glee. This was GREAT! This alone almost guaranteed that he would be accepted to the Auror Academy. He was going to go home and pack right now. But then he remembered that Mark hadn't left yet. Oh, he was in trouble. Mark was reading the letter he had set aside, the notice that reminded him of the time of the train departure.

"What is this? Are you a wizard?"

Yep. Harry was in deep trouble.

A/N: Okay. This is fic number two. I personally think that it could be written a little better. But, that's not my point! My point is that this is a multiple chapter fic and I AM COMPLETELY OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS! So by all means, attack me with how you want the story.


	2. Sorry Folks!

Hey guys! Let me tell ya, you guys rock for reading my stuff, but I am currently brain-dead. And so, due to lack of inspiration for the past six months, I am stopping this story for now. Maybe sometime, if I get ideas, I'll continue it, but until then, you guys are great! If you have an idea you'd like to share or you'd like license to the idea and don't want to get chewed out by the site for plagiarism, e-mail me please! I'll reply within twelve hours, I promise. Until next time! -NitenGale 


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